If you spend your Thursdays aching to read Isthmus Diversions listings, you hopefully checked out the night of naughtiness at the WORT-sponsored Foxy Veronica's Peach Pies and The Wet Spots show at the High Noon Saloon. With bawdiness thrown about like a loose chick in a State St. bar, no one was spared from heightened hedonism.
Foxy Veronica's Peach Pies kicked off the evening with their own style of dirty musical theater and karaoke. Anyone who's ever seen Fame has fantasized about one day watching -- or partaking -- in an impromptu public dance break; Foxy Veronica's Peach Pies are what happens when the dream comes true in Victoria Secret (or perhaps the lingerie section of Target).These ladies, (and regrettably, their pathetic, Kid Rock-doppelgÃnger MC) teased and taunted with dancing, singing, and the occasional come-hither snarl. Fare included Madonna impersonations, high kicking jazz routines, torch songs, and my favorite, a balloon popping, PG-13 striptease from performer Tallahassee. No tassels were twirled in tonight's repertoire, but I suspect there is room in their panties for some bigger balls -- and bigger future plans.
In New York shows I am accustomed to, ladies take to the stage and sing Judas Priest with their behinds and faux-masturbate to images of Jesus. And they do both with the ease of eating a banana. I was skeptical if The Wet Spots could bring it -- the thought of a married Canadian couple doesn't exactly make me moist. As it turns out, this creamy couple made me happy to come, er, attend.
The Wet Spots hail from Toronto and are the husband and wife team Cass King and John Woods. The duo apparently share more than bedmates -- they share everything with their audience in a hilarious, gut-busting spectacle. What other team can get an audience member on stage for the purpose of slapping the chanteuse's ass? I dare you to try that one, Hall and Oates! But it wasn't all slapstick -- the duo sang sweetly as pants-less John Wood strummed on both ukulele and guitar. Ditties covered subject matter ranging from anal games, kink boundaries, and everything in between... your legs.
King's confident candor instantly won over the crowd, humanizing taboo topics like mammal masturbation. (Apparently porcupines do it with a stick. Who knew?) Woods utilized his nonchalant attitude for the best, talking openly about posting scandalous personal ads on Craigslist. Couples, local burly-q performers, trannies, and some very forward lesbians chortled in unison at songs discussing bisexuality and odes to booty calls.
The Wet Spots might have been dressed like they raided your great aunt's closet, but their titillating comedy and graceful antics were way less creepy than that crispy old lady on the Oxygen network who talks about dildos. However, the message of each party remained the same: treat your partner and yourself with respect, and never, ever put strange objects up your bum. Spread the love, indeed.